


Pretty Things

by Aloof_Introvert



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: And then this happened, Angst, Character Study, Doctor Who Feels, Does anyone else get the feeling that Eleven is pretending to be happy sometimes, Friendship, Gen, I remembered that once Eleven took a snowglobe out of his pocket, Poetry, Symbolism, Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-14
Updated: 2016-03-14
Packaged: 2018-05-26 17:10:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6248437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aloof_Introvert/pseuds/Aloof_Introvert
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short poem about the Doctor's fear of losing his Ponds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pretty Things

Shattered snowglobes, unspinning tops, my snapped yo-yo strings  
I don't know how I can always stand the end of pretty things.  
Maybe the answer's folded in the planks of Jacob's Ladder  
I'll try to turn it, but the wood is cracked and the ribbons are in tatters.

The sun's nice and bright, but its relentless rays have warmed and wilted the marigolds,  
So I'll put down my crown and tell you how to make everything sound like a miracle.  
It's all a ruse and run of the mouth, sleight of hand, a tarot-card trick,  
To make the smoke and mirrors freefall, glass shattered and whirling smoke thick

It delights your eyes and stings them too, now, what a price to pay!  
Is a neverending night an acceptable plight for such a disarming day?  
Shake the snowglobe while you make your decision, peer at the flakes and smile  
Sure, the snow is disturbed, the bell tower perturbed, but the flakes spin in clockwork spirals

I don't think I'll ever stop being scared that I'll drop them, watching their distant galaxies  
Sometimes I'm so terrified I think that I'll die, thinking of glass slipping past, a fallacy  
I don't think I'll ever stop shaking them up, grinning at distant nebulas  
Sometimes I'm so terrified I think that I'll die, coveting my stars like Caligula

But see this lost soul, this Pinocchio,  
Breathe some life into these wooden bones,  
Patch up the skin that's started to peel,  
Exposing a face hidden beneath.

You look at me and you smile, you both, you shining stars and snowflakes  
I look at you and I smile at you both, you turning tops and yo-yos...

Shattered snowglobes, unspinning tops, my snapped yo-yo strings  
I don't know how I can always stand the end of pretty things.


End file.
